An illusion of peace
But a time where the fires are ceased
An illusion of serenity
Is but a display of mutual vanity
They sign the papers
With bloody rapiers
Soldiers follow the command
They march these cursed lands
Names carved in the stone
Eulogies of heroes left all alone
Sweet lovers holding hands
A compensation of their demands
An absence of peace
Just a succession of retreats
A wicked display of vanity
Shouts and screams of insanity
No comments:
Post a Comment